The dregs of this cup were spared him, thanks to an inspiration in which breaks forth anew his natural play of imagination. To the Canticle of the Sun he added a new strophe: Be praised, Lord, for those who forgive for love of thee, and bear trials and tribulations; happy they who persevere in peace, by thee, Most high, shall they be crowned. Then, calling a friar, he charged him to beg the governor to betake himself, with all the notables whom he could assemble, to the paved square before the bishop's palace. The magistrate, to whom legend gives the nobler part in the whole affair, at once yielded to the saint's request. When he arrived and the bishop had come forth from the palace, two friars came forward and said: "Brother Francis has made to the praise of God a hymn to which he prays you to listen piously," and immediately they began to sing the Hymn of Brother Sun, with its new strophe. The governor listened, standing in an attitude of profound attention, copiously weeping, for he dearly loved the blessed Francis. When the singing was ended, "Know in truth," said he, "that I desire to forgive the lord bishop, that I wish and ought to look upon him as my lord, for if one had even assassinated my brother I should be ready to pardon the murderer." With these words he threw himself at the bishop's feet, and said: "I am ready to do whatsoever you would, for the love of our Lord Jesus Christ and his servant Francis." Then the bishop, taking him by the hand, lifted him up and said, "With my position it would become me to be humble, but since I am naturally too quick to wrath, thou must pardon me."[36] This unexpected reconciliation was immediately looked upon as miraculous, and increased still more the reverence of the Assisans for their fellow-citizen. The summer was drawing to a close. After a few days of relative improvement Francis's sufferings became greater than ever: incapable of movement, he even thought that he ought to give up his ardent desire to see St. Damian and Portiuncula once more, and gave the brothers all his directions about the latter sanctuary: "Never abandon it," he would repeat to them, "for that place is truly sacred: it is the house of God."[37] It seemed to him that if the Brothers remained attached to that bit of earth, that chapel ten feet long, those thatched huts, they would there find the living reminder of the poverty of the early days, and could never wander far from it.